Browsing Category New Albums

Thee Tsunamis

Oof, Thee Tsunamis make good on that EP from last year with a ripper of an album. Saturday Night Sweetheart blasts through candy coated garage like a bad habit. Not necessarily rewriting any books or hooks but to be fair this one seizes you more like a coloring book anyhow so what’s to be rewritten? Scribbled deliriously outside the lines and shredded to confetti before you could ever catch a glimpse, the album is frothy and fun, all swooning love songs, b-movie brawls and late night laments rolled in leather. The ranks of garage are legion these days and the best bits float along the top because you can practically feel the band having fun through the speakers, coaxing you out of your sad little funk and forcing those feet to move. For a dose of toughed up, take no shit Brill Building wrecking ball pop; you’d be remiss to look any further than Thee Tsunamis.


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Thee Oh Sees

Am I perpetually in a state of reviewing Oh Sees albums? Sometimes it feels like it. Even with that “hiatus” the band has an intimidating output, that at this time is getting tough to crack for new listeners. As with most of the band’s albums Mutilator Defeated At Last is rife with John Dwyer’s signature reverb howl, blasting through the fog of guitars like a pink neon blast from a toy ray gun. And though, like this, many hallmarks of Thee Oh Sees sound hang heavy on the album, it expands on the formula nicely. There’s a heavy freakout quality to the album making it feel more substantial than its thirty-three odd minutes. Dwyer’s been at this long enough that he’s trimmed some of the fat and left room only for a suite that punches furiously out of the gate with a sweet dip of cool water in the form of “Sticky Hulks” on the back half bringing the comedown. It feels like a study in how to make psych succeed. While The Drop was a surprise return last year, it doesn’t list among my essential Oh Sees, but Mutilator has climbed higher on the list than I’d thought so far into their catalog. Its here and gone before you realize and in true fashion, leaves you wanting to knock that needle back to the start.

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Blood Warrior

Psych-folk has seen a decline in the past few years since its welcome back to the fold in the early aughts, but some souls are still holding strong to the dark twists that knot the acoustic landscape. Blood Warrior creak down the path of English folk that’s haunted by the specters of Bert Jansch and Fresh Maggots. They’ve got a handle on the brooding and the melancholy, rolling in primitive hoofbeat drumming under the circular pick of strings and wheeze of harmonium. Their second album, Letter Ghost, is shrouded in dusk, every note seems to hang in that space between the slip of sun from horizon to oblivion. The album never rushes, instead letting the vapor of breath curl in the air around the notes in a way that’s affecting and fragile. Greg Jamie (O’Death) and Joey Weiss (Super Monster, Lazy River) are no strangers to the mossy corners of folk, but here they step away from their past projects to create something a little more intimate, a little more rooted in the soil. And by all accounts they succeed in creating a hollow of folk that seeps to the core.

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Swiftumz

Chris McVicker’s gauzy power pop may have slipped under your radar in the last few years. His first album, the sorely underrated Don’t Trip came out via Holy Mountain, more known for stoner metal than clean lines and upbeat sparkle. In the interim he’s let slip a few singles that also can’t help but put a sly smile on your face, bouncing out of the speakers on springs and pushing the clouds aside every time. So its great news that a second album is finding its way into the world on Melters.

Everybody Loves Chris follows along the path he’s trodden previously, dotting the album with some effervescent pop hooks but never getting caught in making that the sole focus. For every bit of jangle and every candy coated chorus there’s a track that’s caked in thick froth, shrouding any trace of sunny pop and finding joy in the dark corners of his catalog. The album twists itself into knots that earworm straight to your brain and take root. McVicker’s pop vision seems like the kind of album that would have reviewers flocking, a fucked pop nugget that can’t be contained or pinned down. Hopefully this time it’ll push through the surface and find that audience that it deserves.



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Squadra Omega

Paring down to a trio for their latest, Italian combo Squadra Omega certainly take no decline in the size of their squall on Altri Occhi Ci Guardano. Starting with an untethered drift of noise that feigns from their true strength, the album flashes a few incisors as it barrels into “Sospesi nell’Oblio”. The threesome ties Krautrock into knots, utilizing its trademark thrust to add an insistent groove to the record, while gnarling the narrative above the churn of bass and drums. Spaced syths and impossibly coagulated guitars find a link between the open spaces of Morricone soundtracks, the restlessness of surf, the asymmetrical bite of jazz and the ambient drift of musique concrète.

That original feint of drift recurs throughout the album to cleanse the palette of frantic bop that otherwise threatens to tear a hole in your turntable but they always storm back to the fray and each new time it seems with more vicious results. The tracks push into the eleven and twelve minute territory but never feel like overwrought indulgences, instead they fill out a double LP with the kind of expansive instincts that pushed their German progressive forbears to the edges of space.



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